


Normal Procedure

by MamaMystique



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hannibal celebrates Bedelia's birthday, Tumblr Prompt, murder couple bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 01:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1922013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaMystique/pseuds/MamaMystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal decides to get Bedelia something very special for her birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Normal Procedure

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted on Tumblr as "Doesn't sound like a normal procedure to me," and resulted in my take on the famous "brain dinner" from the third Hannibal book.

Bedelia really shouldn’t have been surprised by what she found waiting for her at the dinner table that night.

A little under a week ago, she and Hannibal had quietly attended a local theatre performance that allowed them to experience the arts without drawing attention to themselves. Secrecy was everything for both of them; slipping in and out unnoticed became routine, and they had become quite good at it. During intermission Bedelia stood at the end of the bar sipping white wine in shadows, watching as people trampled each other in line, waiting for Hannibal to return from acquiring tickets for an upcoming show they both had a keen interest in seeing.

That was when he appeared.

“Good evening,” he had said, and Bedelia politely returned the words, while dropping all of the hints that she actually had no interest in speaking with a young man who was underdressed and stunk of too much cologne. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, and she refused to initiate any conversation.

But he had persisted, talking to her of the weather, of the news, of all sorts of things Bedelia found to be dull.

“Are you here alone?”

Bedelia shook her head, spying Hannibal approaching through the crowd. “No. My husband is with me.”

All of a sudden he was too close, too close, his mouth near her ear, and a napkin with his number on it thrust into her hand. “That’s too bad. If you get bored though,” he whispered, and reached around to grab her ass through her dress.

It took Bedelia a moment to realize what happened. The empty glass in her hand and the wine on the man’s face and shirt suggested that she had thrown her drink at him. The young man’s inability to breath after a solid and quick punch that had made a sickening cracking noise and knocked the wind out of him suggested that Hannibal had seen everything.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal had asked protectively, viciously, as he escorted her in a flash through the lobby and through an exit before anyone could even notice the young man who struggled to breath.

“You broke his ribs,” was all she could say.

“Only one. Twenty three less than he deserved.”

“I’m fine. I could have dealt with it. I was dealing with it.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you do that? We’re supposed to be staying under the radar, Hannibal. That wasn’t exactly discrete.”

Hannibal hung on the edge of words as he held the door of the car open for her. “Neither was what you did. But he was very rude to you,” he said finally. “And there are some rude behaviors I tolerate less than others.”

They drove home in silence until Bedelia reached over and held his free hand, gently rubbing the skin that was swelling from the force of impact with human bone. “Are you alright?” she repeated to him softly, noticing the white-knuckle grip his other hand had on the steering wheel.

“Yes,” he said, and took a deep breath. His grip lessened. “Yes. In fact, I thought of something I would like to get you for your birthday.”

Two days later she found the napkin with the phone number in Hannibal’s front breast pocket of the suit he had worn that night.

Three days after that, on a beautiful evening filled with warm air and a clear sky, Bedelia awoke from what she soon realized to be a partially induced rest to find Hannibal’s present waiting for her.

It was a two-part gift. The first part was an absolutely stunning black dress with a daring back that plummeted from her neck and shoulders to the low curve of her spine. Complimenting it was a beautiful diamond bracelet studded with rich amethysts, and a hand written note from Hannibal asking her to please wear them both and join him and their guest downstairs in the dining room.

The second part was dinner.

As Bedelia descended the stairs, Hannibal emerged from the kitchen with a serving bowl of broth.

“You look beautiful,” he spoke with bright eyes. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” She reached up to place her hands on his cheeks and placed a kiss on his lips. “I love your gifts. Though I am displeased with the melatonin you put into my drink earlier.”

“A necessary step my love. I had to make sure you were rested for tonight, and that our guest was prepared.”

It was then that Bedelia’s eyes took in the surgical supplies resting in view on the kitchen counter.

“Hannibal,” she said warily, a chill running through her, “what have you done?”

He smiled that smile, the one that could freeze someone to their very core. “Come and see.”

Sitting at the head of the dining table as the guest of honor was the man from the theatre. As soon as Bedelia entered the room, he smiled a sick, half-conscious smile. He was clearly drugged, well beyond being able to process reality, dressed in a horrible suit and a hat that was a little too large for his head.

“Good evening,” Bedelia whispered, her stomach churning as she sat where Hannibal pulled out a seat for her.

The man continued to smile.

“Peter, how rude of you,” Hannibal scolded, a little too proud of himself. “The lovely Doctor has just wished you good evening. Return the sentiment.”

“Good evening,” Peter managed to choke out, still grinning.

“She looks rather lovely, doesn’t she?” Hannibal continued, setting the broth on the table and preparing a small pan over a portable heat source next to their guest. “Today is her birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” Peter slurred, his head rolling on his neck ever so slightly. “I’ll take you out on a date.”

“I don’t think you will,” Bedelia said slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Then I can fuck you?” Peter slurred again, and Hannibal made a tsk tsk noise.

“Peter. Language. You will do no such thing.”

“Is she yours?”

“She is not mine. If you had come to known her better, you might have realized that the only person who could ever claim her was herself.” Hannibal smiled then, plating the broth and turning on the portable heat.

Peter thought for a moment, his eyes losing focus, his tongue getting caught between his teeth. “What a bitch.” He finally said, a little too loud.

Bedelia gritted her teeth and dug her nails into her palm, trying to stop the shaking that plagued her.

“Language, Peter. You’re already in enough trouble.” Hannibal’s eyes then met Bedelia’s, pleased at how well she was externally managing her discomfort. “Would you like me to explain the dish?”

Bedelia took in a slow, steady breath. “I believe I am aware of what it will be.”

Hannibal gestured to their guest. “Well then, my love. Would you care to explain to Peter what is about to happen? He’s been dying with anticipation.”

“Peter,” she spoke, gaining her confidence as she set her hands firmly on the table. “Hannibal has given you a powerful sedative. One used for procedures done on the brain.”

“Am I having a procedure?”

She nodded once. “I believe you are already in the middle of one. And if I am right, Hannibal has already cut through your skin and the top of your skull, but left your brain intact.”

“Why?”

“I do think he means to serve it to me as my dinner.”

Hannibal let a little hum of happiness escape him as the pan grew hot, listening to Bedelia put the pieces together. “Our dinner. You are correct. What gave it away?”

“Several things. Firstly, your pride.” Hannibal turned to Bedelia then, and was surprised to find a small smile on her face. She had banished her nerves now, her breathing even. “Whimsy, darling,” she continued. “Your whimsy will be your undoing.”

“Doesn’t sound like a normal procedure to me,” Peter finally reacted, his eyelids fluttering.

“It isn’t. But it’s my birthday, and I never want something normal.”

The pan sizzled, and Hannibal delicately selected a serving spoon. “I thought it fitting for such a gifted woman of your practice. How often you manage and study and truly understand the brain, especially my own. For that I am thankful. As such, you should have the honor of tasting what you so easily dissect.”

“It’s only right,” she nodded.

Hannibal stopped for a moment, before coming around the table to take her hand and place a kiss on her knuckles. “Shall we begin?”

Bedelia grasped the serving spoon from his other hand as she stood, pressing her lips to Hannibal’s. “Together,” she whispered, her tongue flickering, “Always together.”


End file.
